


Gone Rogue

by Bronzi



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Big happy ink family, Fix-It, More tags to be added, chapter 5 fucked me up boi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bronzi/pseuds/Bronzi
Summary: Eventually, you stand up. You’ve come to a conclusion. You’ve been a puppet in Joey’s dreams too long, you’ve told this story too many times. You’re your own person (you think), so why not make your own story? You used to be good at those.You’re demolishing the script Joey Drew has given you. You’re going rogue.





	1. Chapter One: Moving Pictures

**Author's Note:**

> This is just kind of my thoughts on playing through the first chapter again after going through the whole game, and how i think Henry would feel after all that.

You’d done it, finally! After countless days spent hiding, running around, defeating ink beings, you’d finally defeated the monster! You won!

Or… so you thought.

When you woke up in a world of color, you were surprised for a moment, until your memories came rushing back to you. Your name is Henry Sein, Joey invited you down here to show you something, get you to see something in the old studio. But… you’ve lived that memory before. That same moment- a million, a billion times, over and over and over and over and-

You step into the studio, and your memories hit you like a ton of bricks… all except the first. The how you got here, why you came… that still eludes you. You sit down as the door closes, and put your head in your hands.

 

You sit there for god knows how long- is there even a god, down here? Or are you praying to Bendy now- before you run your hands over your face and look around. You can’t bring yourself to re-read your old messages, so all you see is the abandoned studio, Joey’s name displayed prominently all over _your_ hard work. You laugh bitterly.

You have an objective. Find the ink machine.

You don’t want to.

You have time, nothing’s chasing you (yet), and nothing starts happening until the ink machine’s turned on anyways, so you sit. You sit in front of the locked exit and think.

Eventually, you stand up. You’ve come to a conclusion. You’ve been a puppet in Joey’s dreams too long, you’ve told this story too many times. You’re your own person (you think), so why not make your own story? You used to be good at those.

You’re demolishing the script Joey Drew has given you, forced you to play. You’re going rogue.

Why do you have to end the story at all? Why not conquer the world you’ve been forced into? If you’re here, you might as well live, not simply survive. So you stride forward, summoning the ink machine and collecting the objects to turn it on. You pause in the breakroom, taking up a game of darts. Reminiscing about the days when you’d get dragged out of your studio to _“take a break, Henry, you can’t stay cooped up in there **all** the time!” _

Back then, there weren’t many of you. You worked on concept art and animation, with a small team… there was Joey, the boss, of course. Sammy Lawrence- Director of music, and his team of lyricists, voice actors, and orchestra... You only remember him because of all the times you were forced into impromptu ‘board meetings’ with Joey. And of course, the projectionist, Norman Polk. You two had a good relationship, you remember. He always seemed like a solitary guy, but you two often ended up in the same room due to others being full of people chatting away. He didn’t seem to hate you… And then there was Wally. Good old Wally Franks, always bringing spirits up when Joey’s increasing demands had them all down. You crack a smile as you remember your coworkers playing darts in this very room, Wally’s voice booming the loudest and making every hopeless, exhausted soul in the studio perk up to see what got him so excited. The only person who truly seemed to hate him was Sammy, the weirdo. But he was another solitary soul, one who worked pretty closely with a lot of other people, so it was understandable. If you had to work with people, day in and day out, you’d probably snap at Wally more than necessary too.

You grab the book and leave the breakroom, not bothering to explore all the nooks and crannies you had the last time you were here. Nothing had changed. It was all the same, the same, the same.

The ink machine starts up, pipes bursting around you from the sudden increase in pressure. You’re no longer surprised. It’s really predictable at this point. You make your way to the ink machine room and surprise, it’s Bendy! That one always catches you off guard, though, and you make your way through the trembling studio, holding the tiniest hope that maybe this time… maybe you’ll make it to the exit this time…

No such luck, of course. You splash into a puddle of ink, and sigh. That was more disappointing than you’d care to admit. You complete the other objectives mechanically, making your way to the pentagram room, where you’re assaulted with your previous memories of this place. How many times have you been here?

You pass out.


	2. Chapter Two: The Old Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't say im happy with this but here yall go

“Ugh, oh my head… what happened?”

The words come from your mouth before you can even think about them, before the ringing in your ears dies out. You try not to dwell on how many times you’ve said them.

You see the coffins in front of the pentagram. You know who’s in them. You don’t want to remember, you don’t want to see their names. “Well, there’s only one thing to do. Press on, see if we can find a way out.”

There is no way out. You know that now. But that’s not your objective anymore, no. Your first objective is to save Boris.

You need to save Boris. You can’t lose him again, not this time.

_“When did this place get so big?”_

Back in the day, all the music studio had to offer were a couple of offices for Sammy and his coworkers, and a little recording studio. Now, well, the fact that there were directional signs on the walls... it was self-explanatory.

You wander through the old music department, observing the clear signs of your poor coworkers’ slipping sanity. The sigils on the walls, the offerings, the candles… you sigh heavily, coming across the tape. You listen for the millionth time. It feels like a dream, like a nightmare you’ve been trapped in for far too long… you’re in a haze of going through the motions until the tape ends, and Sammy himself pipes up from the shadows.

“I _said, can I get an Amen?_ ”

Suddenly your situation is all too real. You turn around, looking for the source of the voice. Of course, there’s nobody there. You grip your axe tighter as you wander down the hall.

You reluctantly splash down into the ink-filled corridor with a disappointed sigh. Well, it’s not like you could’ve saved your clothes anyways. Not when the water runs pure black. You spot Sammy walking in front of you, humming something to himself as he carries a Bendy cutout to god knows where. You call out to him- god, maybe he’d recognize you the same way you recognized him- but as usual, he didn’t respond. Just… disappeared into the woodwork. You wonder if he can be saved from this Bendy-obsession. You wonder if you want to save him. He is going to knock you out and try to sacrifice you, after all.

The bendy shrine creeps you out, but you ignore it in favor of more pressing matters. You have a door to open, now where were those switches…

 

The gate opens, and you step through.

The tape upsets you, because you _recognize_ that Sammy…. That’s the Sammy you worked with, the one who hated Wally and liked that pretty voice actress of his… you think her name was Susie. The one that Norman would talk to you about, when you both had to take a break… the one who made hauntingly upbeat cartoon songs perfect for a little devil. Who knew exactly how to stay _just this side_ of kid-friendly. There was no doubt Sammy Lawrence was a genius in his own right, just a little bit of a stick in the mud and maybe put too much effort into his job.

Not that he treated his department badly, by all accounts he was a great guy to work with, he just had some sort of weird thing with the other departments… you think he thought it was _his_ music that made the cartoons, or something… Maybe it’s because Joey wouldn’t give his department more funds no matter how hard he bargained. Well, he wouldn’t back in the day, but now… well, it looks like they got an upgrade for sure. But, predictably, Sammy had found something else to complain about. Though, having the stairwell flood with ink periodically sounded inconvenient and unsafe. You wonder how Joey got away with letting people work under these conditions.

You head up the stairs to the recording studio, where you hear Norman’s voice. It makes you sad, but gives you the hint you need to proceed. You want to take the recording, keep it with you, maybe, just to hear a friend’s voice…. But you don’t. You turn on the projector and try to remember what Sammy liked to play.

You find Susie’s tape. Oh, that’s right… poor girl. They had her voicing the angel, one of your subordinate’s ideas that you took to Joey with great success. You quit soon after that... you didn’t realize how invested this girl was in her character, until, well.

_Why is it that, in the face of Joey Drew’s ‘dreams’, no one else’s matter?_

You can’t remember the tune to save your life and the bendy cutouts are multiplying, which is creepy as all hell even without the real possibility of the Ink Demon finding you and hunting you down. You wander out of the band room and start searching- you _know_ Sammy left a tape detailing how to get into his hideout or whatever… you just gotta find it.

Hearing Wally’s voice warms your heart. At least you know, somewhere outside of this damned studio, he’s living his life, free of Joey’s grasp. He deserves it, he cleaned up spilled ink for god knows how long without complaint. You find his keys near the recording studio. You don’t want to know how long they’ve been there, how long it’s been since he…

Hearing Sammy’s voice again sours your mood, and you huff a little to yourself. The tune he details doesn’t sound familiar. Almost like things have changed since you were last here. You don’t dwell on it, you are getting old, after all. Could just be your memory getting full. Even as you pluck each instrument twice, you think to yourself. _‘gosh, it was much more difficult last time…’_ At least that explains why your old tune wasn’t working.

Entering his sanctuary you spot the writing on the wall, and you think you hear whispers. Someone trying to talk to you, or scare you… you twist the valve and leave as quick as you can. Or, you try. Searchers are in your way. You dispose of them quickly.

You make your way to the infirmary, distressing over the clear lack of valve where there was definitely supposed to be one and wondering who the hell staffed this place. You didn’t have medical staff when you were working here. Perhaps that was Joey’s secret to evading health and safety checks. You feel the urge to laugh bitterly. What an absolute hell these poor people had to work in. 

Jack Fain…. You didn’t know him, though he seemed like a funny guy, staying down in the sewers just to get a little peace and quiet. Seemed like that was everyone’s idea, but you could relate. You feel a knot in your chest when you realize the funny little searcher holding your valve with that sweet bowler hat…. That was probably what remained of Jack Fain. You don’t choke up when you kill him, but you do apologize. You take his hat and leave it on the desk, next to the recording. You hope that when… if, he comes back, he’ll… remember.

You take the radio. You like that song, and it’ll liven things up around the base, when you get there. You grabbed the first one you came across, too. You now have two (2) radios. You flip the pump switch and make a mad dash for the stairs, hoping that Sammy wont-

You’re on the floor before you realize that the musician snuck up on you anyway, little bitch. You don’t get a chance to call him that before you black out, though you really wish you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! Sammy's monologue in the next chapter ;)


	3. Chapter 3

“There we go now. Nice and tight. We wouldn’t want our sheep roaming away now, would we?”

 _Oh great._ You think. Your head’s still pounding… fucker hit you over the head with a _dustpan_ , of all things.

“No, we wouldn’t.”

Oh, yeah, you bet he wouldn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re not escaping the first goddamn chance you get.

 “I must admit, I am honored you came all the way down to visit me. It almost makes what I’m about to do seem cruel.”

 _Fuck yeah it’s cruel._ As soon as your head stops throbbing, you’re gonna give this bastard a piece of your mind. You miss the other half of the monologue, trying to focus on getting your mouth to work enough to interrupt the music director and tell him to-

“Let me go, Sammy.” You manage, but he doesn’t seem to hear you. He’s saying something about crawling… oh, he’s done monologuing. Shit, you’ve gotta give him _some_ kind of warning- “This isn’t gonna work out the way you want it to!” You call after him.

He actually turns to look back at you, and you can’t see his face but you’re sure he’d be sneering. “Hush, little sheep. Soon, my Lord will set us both free!”

You shake your head as he closes the door and turns on the intercom. Better start trying to free yourself, then.

You move on pure instinct as soon as you’re free, barely stopping to stare sadly at the puddle formed under the door… well, you can’t say he didn’t have it coming. He _did_ just try to sacrifice you.

Thwacking searchers isn’t any more pleasant than it was 2 minutes ago, but you won’t have them follow you. You’re going to protect the people you gather, not put them in more danger. As that train of thought passes through your head, Bendy shoots up from the ink, hell-bent on chasing you. You run as fast as your ink-filled shoes will carry you, and by some miracle you’re not caught. You run until you figure you’re safe- until the can rolls out inf front of you.

“I know you’re there. Show yourself.”

You want to cry when your Boris comes out of the shadows, alive and well, and you pass out from exhaustion.

 

You wake up in the safehouse, exactly where you want to be. This time, things are gonna be different. Why? Because this time, you’re gonna have a backpack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was short but i promise i'll get to the good stuff next chapter, just hang tight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm definitely gonna add more chapters to this, it's probably gonna be pretty long in the end... since Chapter one is kind of a small chapter this is kind of a small chapter... they'll get longer i promise. Please tell me what you guys think so far!


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